Why the Bush Doesn’t Burn

Text:  Exodus 3:1-15

Hurricanes.  Earthquakes.  Aftershocks.  There are certain things that can’t help but get our attention, if you’re not sleeping that is.  They disrupt our normal routines, our everyday duties and we take notice.  We analyze hurricane trackers, we check Richter scale measurements, we ask others for their “where were you” stories.  For a little while, this is all anybody talks about.  Then, the ground stops shaking, the sun comes out, and our lives return back to their comfortable routines.  We soon forget what seemed at the time to be signs of the apocalypse.

Now, I’m admittedly exaggerating my point, but isn’t this pattern similar to a popular notion of what it means to be a Christian?  You feel convicted by your sin, you have a moving encounter with Christ, you get “saved,” and then pretty much, you’re in, and all that’s left is the talking about it.  And even that soon dies down.  Maybe that’s not what you believe, but maybe that’s how you feel it has been for you.  It’s as if God has paid the price, but you can’t find the change to give back.

This is not the way God intended life to be. “The means to God is Christ.  And no one can know Christ unless one follows him in life.”

Have you heard this quote before?  Hans Denck wrote those words in the sixteenth century, and those who call themselves Anabaptists have been quoting it ever since.  But what often gets omitted from this quote is what our brother Hans wrote immediately after it.  Let me say this quote again to include the words that follow.

“The means to God is Christ.  And no one can know Christ unless one follows him in life. And no one can follow after him except as one already knows him.”

Reconciliation or Revenge

Text:  Genesis 45:1-15

I want to begin my message this morning with three short stories that I’ve recently heard, all of them true.  All of them contain brokenness and pain to an extent that few of us have encountered, thankfully.  I want to begin this way because I think that before have anything worthwhile to say about reconciliation, we first have to acknowledge and talk honestly about the reality of brokenness.

This first story is about a man named David and a woman named Madeline.  David describes his “love” for marijuana, cocaine, and alcohol.  When he lived inLouisiana, he smuggled pounds of marijuana into his state fromAlabama.  When he lived inMiami, women prostituted themselves with his friends for cocaine.  Does this sound like a man you’d want your daughter to marry?

David married Madeline, a woman who had been physically and sexually abused by her stepfather repeatedly from age nine to age twelve.  Her stepfather threatened to kill her if she told anyone, so she kept this secret for many years, anger building and raging inside of her.  She dreamed of the day when she could take vengeance on her stepfather.  David and Madeline, united in marriage.   When we hear of a marriage like that, we are more likely to think of curse than blessing.

The second story involves a young woman named Chloe serving a one-year assignment inColoradowith Mennonite Voluntary Service, much like what Ranita did inWest Virginia.  Some of you may know this story and her family.  Last October, Chloe was riding her bicycle when she was hit from behind by a Dodge Ram pickup.  The sixteen year-old driver fled the scene, but Chloe died there.  Chloe is described as a person who loved animals, camping, working in gardens and traveling. Like her family she enjoyed music and was a budding singer and songwriter.  Can you imagine the grief for Chloe’s mother, father, sister and brother?  Can you imagine being that sixteen year-old driver, having to live with the consequences of this terrible accident for the rest of your life?

Life in a Strange Tribe

Here’s an excerpt from an article that I wrote for CNN’s Belief Blog.  For the full article, click here.

Although there certainly are diverse viewpoints among individual Mennonites today, we continue to advocate for the strict separation of church and state. Most Mennonite churches do not have flags inside them, and many Mennonites are uncomfortable with the ritual embedded in the singing of the national anthem.

That’s because we recognize only one Christian nation, the church, the holy nation that is bound together by a living faith in Jesus rather than by man-made, blood-soaked borders.

To Mennonites, a living faith in Jesus means faithfully living the way of Jesus. Jesus called his disciples to love their enemies and he loved his enemies all the way to the cross and beyond. Following Jesus and the martyrs before us, we testify with our lives that freedom is not a right that is granted or defended with rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air. True freedom is given by God, and it is indeed not free. It comes with a cost, and it looks like a cross.

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/06/26/my-faith-why-i-dont-sing-the-star-spangled-banner/?iref=obnetwork

 

Easter the Week

A Prayer for Easter Sunday
April 4, 2010

It’s Easter Sunday, Lord,
and it seems as if all of creation joins us in our celebration.
The flowers are blooming,
the sun is shining,
the grass is growing,
the birds are singing,
the ants are working.
All of this reminds us of new life,
new beginnings, new starts –
You,
making all things new.

It’s Easter Sunday, Lord,
and in some ways it’s so easy to celebrate,
to worship, to sing, to shout,
for you took an ordinary month of the year,
an ordinary day of the week, an ordinary hour of the day,
and you Eastered it.
You Eastered the ordinary,
You Eastered the tomb,
You Eastered the future.
You Eastered Sunday, the first day of the week,
the first day of the future, the first day of now.

And so, Lord, we pray that the resurrection we celebrate today
and every Sunday
might continue to be seen and celebrated
the rest of the week, the rest of our days.

You Eastered Sunday,
now Easter Monday,
the day when many people go back to work,
at home, at the office, in the factories, in the stores,
in the fields, in the schools.
Some of us fear for our jobs, some of us are dissatisfied with our jobs,
some of us are in new jobs, some of us are looking for jobs.
We pray, Lord, that the work of our bodies and our minds
will be pleasing to you and to us.
May our work serve you,
so that we might be at peace in mind, body, and soul.
Through Christ Jesus, Easter Monday.

You Eastered Sunday,
now Easter Tuesday,